“Blessed is the man that endureth temptation: for when he is tried, he shall receive the crown of life which the Lord hath promised to them that love him....
“But every man is tempted, when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed.
“Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death.”
“You have had a bad dream, Reuben.”
The gray light of early morning peeped into the room, filling every nook and corner with the weirdness of unreality. Reuben looked vaguely at Hernando, lying quietly with an inscrutable smile on his face. He raised himself in his chair. Sure enough, there were the lines of dissipation and gray hairs! “’Deed, Massa, I has so!” he replied, as he went to replenish the fire.
“Surely, Reuben, you don’t believe in dreams!”
“I’se boun’ ter, Massa; didn’t Joseph’s and Pharaoh’s come true?”
“That is a disputed question. I don’t believe that people now-a-days dream dreams that have no connection with, or some proportion to their waking knowledge.”
“Mebbe so, Massa, but when Massa John was so dreffel sick down in Missouri, Massa Murphy’s dog howled t’ree times befo’ de do’. I sho’ly did b’lieve de Good Laud wanted Massa John Lauzee, how I did go trompin’ troo de grass aftah dat dog! Listen, Massa, aftah a-chasin’ dat dog laster time, I sat down by Massa John’s bed feelin’ po’ful sad, an’ I dreampt he was dead an’ I watchin’ in great tribilation of spirit. I done t’ink de Good Laud didn’t hearken to de moans an’ groans ob dis po’ niggah. Seemed like I’d go plum ’stracted. My ’tention was ’tracted by a bright an’ shinin’ light an’ outen it came a still, small voice: ‘Reuben, yo’ Massa will live, an’ yo’, not I, have saved his life.’ Massa Hernando, dem’s de berry words ob Doctor Hoff when de fever turned. Yes, Massa, I’se boun’ ter b’leeve dat when de Good Laud has a message fo’ us, He’ll mebbe give it in a dream.”
“Reuben!”